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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29685561">Meeting himself in a strange sci-fi scenario</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek (TV) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dan Levy's Proust Questionnaire, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:35:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>787</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29685561</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <b>[Reporter] Can you explain the context behind that your greatest regret?</b>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Not respecting myself enough in my teens. Yeah, I mean, I think I was a really introverted kid.<br/>I really didn't think that highly of myself. And I think you look back at your teens and you see missed opportunities.<br/>Would I have changed anything? Probably not, because I feel like everything that happened to me led to who I am today, but at the same time, I do feel like, you know, looking back, you think, geez, you were so much better than you thought you were. If I were to ever meet my younger self in a strange sci-fi scenario, that's what I would say.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Meeting himself in a strange sci-fi scenario</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Ok, so it's not really a strange sci-fi scenario, per se.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Dan can’t sleep.  He’d hoped that some time in nature, some peace on the lake, and some time with his parents would quiet the anxiety that had taken root in the early days of the pandemic and only grown as case numbers and the demand for his physical appearance increased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, he’d been wrong.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At midnight, he places his phone on the charger and turns off the bedside lamp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At quarter past one, he checks his social media again and responds to a few messages from west coast friends.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At half past three, Redmond needs to pee, so he throws a sweater on, takes him out to the run and lets him do his business.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He takes in the scenery as he waits for his dog. Muskoka is really home.  Toronto is great, but the memories here are innumerable, and if you excuse the recognizability of some of the people involved, the memories are devoid of cameras, and media, and an all-consuming sense of being watched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s lost in his thoughts when a low hum of a familiar melody draws his attention towards the water.  There’s an ethereal haze over the water, casting hues of navy and grey and there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone</span>
  </em>
  <span> on the dock?  Who on earth?  He returns Redmond inside, and heads lakeside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“<em>Oh my god,</em>” Dan murmurs, taking in the figure sitting with its lanky legs hanging off the dock.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shakes his head.  It couldn’t be. Is this some sort of dream?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A branch fractures under his weight, the snap alerting the young man to Dan’s presence.  He turns his head slowly, eyes squinting in the low light, and stops humming, casting an evaluative glance at Dan’s choice of attire.  “Nice sweater,” the kid snarks.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dan recognizes that voice.  He’d know it anywhere.  He’d also know those brows, and the fact that the kid is still nearly a decade away from embracing a good waxing makes him cringe.  The kid looks sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” he manages to croak out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid says nothing.  There’s a long pause.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” the kid finally whispers.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to talk about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid shakes his head.  “Can you just sit with me?  I just don’t want to be alone right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dan sits next to himself on the dock.  Cross-legged.  Not risking the loss of a Rick Owens sneaker in the lake.  He waits.  And waits.  The kid swings his legs, stretching to dip his toes in the water, but not quite being able to reach. A loon cries out over the still water, the only audible sound other than their breath.  The sky slowly lightens, as the two of them just hold space together on the dock.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should get inside.  Your parents are going to worry about you,” Dan suggests softly.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid shrugs.  “Soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dan’s getting cold, and he’s still not sure why he’s here.  Or whether he’s really here?  The jury is still out on whether this is a dream or not.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, listen.  I’m gonna...go.  Can you do me a favour?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” the kid replied after a beat.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be nicer to yourself.  You’re so much better than you think you are. I mean, you...you’ve got a bit of a rough go ahead…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid interrupts with a scoff, his eyes cast over the water.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s gonna be ok.  Better than ok.  You’re gonna be great.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you know?” the kid snarls.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um. The thing is...I’m...you.  Like 25 years from now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You...you’re me?”  the kid asked, his voice cracking embarrassingly on the last syllable.  He looks up at Dan, mouth agape, but there's a flash of recognition as the kid fully takes in Dan's features.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dan let out a slow exhale.  “Yeah.  Yep.  This - “ he gestured to himself with a sardonic flourish “is your future.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid’s eyes widened.  “Wow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, is that a </span>
  <em>
    <span>good </span>
  </em>
  <span>wow, or…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do I know you’re not fucking with me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dan clucks his tongue.  “Language, Danny!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kid actually lets a laugh escape before schooling his face once again.  Dan remembers that feeling.  Stifling himself, not wanting to be too loud, too smiley, too much.  Wanting to just fade into the backdrop.  And it makes his heart ache.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leans in, and whispers something only he would know in the kid’s ear.  The kid gasps.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dan pulls back, and goes to stand.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all worth it, kid.  I fuckin’ promise,” he says softly as he turns away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Language!” the kid cries out, and as Dan looks back, there’s tears in the kid’s eyes, and a smile on his face.  He returns the smile, and heads back into the cabin, collapsing on the couch, and falling asleep within minutes.  </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
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